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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26554717">my universe in all its glory</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheelspokes/pseuds/wheelspokes'>wheelspokes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Getting Together, M/M, Sakusa Kiyoomi-centric, Slight Character Study, Strict Parents, many mentions of Microsoft Excel, planning for the future, space imagery</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 08:47:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26554717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheelspokes/pseuds/wheelspokes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>At sixteen, Kiyoomi devotes himself to routine by drafting his life plan and forgets to account for Miya Atsumu ruining every prediction he's ever had.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>301</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>my universe in all its glory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>An expansion of what was once a twitfic.</p><p>For Sakusa Week 2020, day 1's tier 1 prompts happy/smile, and a brief mention of tier 2's warmth and home</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Kiyoomi is sixteen when his mother sits him down in front of the family computer. </p><p>A blank Microsoft Excel sheet is displayed on the screen, and Kiyoomi is filled with childish wonder as he scrolls through a grid expanding for eternity, rows and rows of boxes that have yet to be filled with a universe of their own. He’s been told humans are ninety-three percent stardust, and these fragments thrum through his veins.</p><p>As he stares at the infinite possibilities an Excel sheet holds, Kiyoomi discovers a new form of astronomy to devote his life to worshipping. </p><p>“Think about what you’ll do for the next five years,” his mother says before leaving him alone with the computer. </p><p>Kiyoomi thrives on relentlessly pursuing everything until the end. Motoya calls him a perfectionist, a sharp bite to his words as if it’s an insult and not a compliment that makes galaxies swirl to life in his bones. He diligently scrubs away germs to protect himself and finds some semblance of control in paying everything the proper care it deserves. He dreams of sweet victories and his lips curving into a smile out of satisfaction. </p><p>What is routine if it’s not mapping out everything that must be done, everything he wants to do? Why stop at planning out the next five years when there’s an empty spreadsheet waiting to be filled in front of him, a whole new world waiting for a god to begin the process of creation?</p><p>By the time his mother returns two hours later, Kiyoomi has written his future plans into existence. </p><p>He is sixteen. He’ll continue to play volleyball for the rest of his high school career. Kiyoomi will cement his title of number one spiker in the nation, and when his gross wrists pave the path for Itachiyama’s victory, he’ll wear it as a crown. Volleyball won’t interfere with his classes as he allotts the proper amount of time every night to study, and the victory of his high test scores will taste just as sweet as the best spiker award he won at Interhigh. </p><p>When Kiyoomi returns to Nationals in his third year of high school, he’ll secure a scholarship to a prestigious university with a strong volleyball team. He’ll keep playing volleyball in college, and once he’s played his final game dressed in his university colors, he’ll bow to thank his supporters one last time. The thrills of volleyball will be tucked away under his skin, his love for the sport and the countless awards lining his bookshelves briefly resurfacing as the automatic answer he gives when he’s asked to share something about himself at job interviews.</p><p>Kiyoomi will emerge from the abyss called university with a degree in computer science or whatever major the job market has a high demand for. The stardust coursing through his blood will be satiated by a general membership in the university’s astronomy club. </p><p>If he plays his cards right, his good grades and accomplishments will earn him a job with one of Tokyo’s top firms. Once he’s in, he’ll climb the company rankings until his salary has enough zeros for his parents to stop believing he wasted too much time on a sport and a club that didn’t mean anything in the end. </p><p>He’ll begin a serious relationship with someone in his early thirties and marry his partner when he’s thirty-five. The person he marries will have a sizable paycheck as well, and when they combine their salaries, they’ll tell the landlord of their two bedroom apartment they’re not renewing the lease because they bought a house in another district in Tokyo. </p><p>Maybe, just maybe, he’ll even give his parents the grandchildren they say they want one day. Either way, he’ll look at his life and smile, happiness ebbing through every crevice of his soul. </p><p>Kiyoomi’s plan is immortalized in the cells of his Excel spreadsheet. Under his mother’s watchful gaze, he prints out the universe his fingertips created in only five columns, forty rows, and two hundred Excel cells. The papers are taped above his desk in his bedroom, a reminder of the bright future that awaits him.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>(Kiyoomi forgets falling in love with a sport because of a pocket handkerchief, picking a junior high to attend because of a lint roller.)</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>At the end of December, his life intersects with Miya Atsumu’s once more as they meet in yet another U19 Youth Volleyball training camp. </p><p>Kiyoomi finds himself sitting on the same bench as Atsumu, a meter of distance between them. When Atsumu asks what he plans to do after high school, he recites the contents of his spreadsheet from memory. </p><p>Atsumu nods along as he drinks the bottled green tea he bought from the vending machine. Kiyoomi finishes detailing his life plan when Atsumu rattles his empty bottle, the last drop of tea slowly trickling into his mouth as he tilts his head back. </p><p>“I don’t see why ya should study somethin’ ya don’t even like in college,” Atsumu tells him. He sounds bored, as if what he’s saying is obvious instead of sacrilegious. “And besides, how do ya know what yer gonna do ten years from now? I don’t even know what I’m gonna eat for breakfast tomorrow.”</p><p>He stands up to toss his bottle into the recycling bin. The space between them suddenly feels astronomical. A bead of sweat runs from Atsumu’s forehead and drips off his chin, a small meteor beginning its descent to the ground. </p><p>Kiyoomi tears his eyes away from where the drop of sweat hurdles downwards and splats against the tiled floor. Atsumu is already gone, leaving Kiyoomi alone in the hallway with only the buzzing of the hallway’s overhead lights for company.</p><p>It’s not surprising that Atsumu doesn’t have a ten year plan; after all, he’s arrived at their morning practice five minutes late every day of the camp so far. Atsumu is unprepared for the bitterness of reality. What would Atsumu know about routines and taking care of himself anyways? </p><p>He takes an extra long shower that night in a futile attempt to strip away Atsumu’s disappointed gaze. </p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi thinks of Atsumu sweating shooting stars when Iizuna collapses in the middle of a match at Nationals. If Inarizaki hadn’t been defeated in the first round, he could storm over to Atsumu and shake his shoulders for a meteor shower and wish for Iizuna’s speedy recovery. </p><p>Itachiyama is not supposed to lose. And yet Kiyoomi watches his seniors support their captain as they all hobble off the court. There is no satisfaction, no smile on his face. </p><p>Why did they lose? </p><p>Maybe it’s his luck running out. Maybe it’s divine intervention preventing Itachiyama from a third consecutive Nationals title. Maybe it’s a lesson to teach him no matter how many accolades he earns, he’s never guaranteed a smile or a victory. </p><p>Maybe it’s just something that happened, the unexpected denying his predictions as it becomes a fact. </p><p>It is the first time his plans begin to derail, the first time he begins to realize a detailed spreadsheet might not mean anything. </p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>In his third year of high school, Atsumu corners him in the corner of the gymnasium. </p><p>Their final Spring Interhigh ends with Inarizaki finally earning a win against Itachiyama. Kiyoomi fails to receive Osamu’s spike, and with the shriek of a whistle and a flip of the scorecards, he watches his spring come to an end. </p><p>It is the first time Kiyoomi has lost against Atsumu. With Kiyoomi planning on entering the college volleyball circuit before eventually retiring from the sport, it’ll be the last time he loses to Atsumu. </p><p>His future plans have always brought him comfort. Now, as Kiyoomi wears his Itachiyama jersey for the last time in his life and looks at someone who devotes himself to volleyball instead of the cells of an Excel sheet, he feels hollow.</p><p>The glossy folder Atsumu clutches in his hand is familiar. When Kiyoomi looks down at the brochures dangling loosely in his own fingers, he sees the same golden logo on the top of an envelope. </p><p>“If you still don’t know what to do after high school, join the Black Jackals with me,” Atsumu says. There are traces of something raw and painfully earnest in his voice, and Kiyoomi is too tired to examine how this makes him feel. “I know you got an offer, so come with me.”</p><p>The future Kiyoomi has planned has no room for a professional volleyball team, no room for Miya Atsumu. </p><p>This time, Kiyoomi is the one to walk away and leave Atsumu by himself </p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi does not join the MSBY Black Jackals. </p><p>Instead, he remembers sitting an arm’s length away from someone, a bottle of green tea, a drop of sweat falling, falling, falling.</p><p>
  <em>I don’t see why ya should study somethin’ ya don’t even like in college.</em>
</p><p>There is a sea of faded glow-in-the-dark stars scattered across his ceiling and a star chart he removed from his walls to make room for his printed Excel sheets. There is love stored in him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and not a single bit of it is for computer science. </p><p>When Kiyoomi gets home, his parents are excitedly calling his sisters to share all of his offers. Seven of the top universities in Japan offer scholarships; no one mentions the two Division I V.League teams that offer him a position as a second-string outside hitter. </p><p>“Where do you want to go Kiyoomi?” his mother asks, as if she hasn’t been subtly pushing the pamphlet from Waseda forward ever since he placed it on the table. The tight smile she wears almost convinces him he’s wrong for wanting to be happy.  </p><p>Kiyoomi stares into his stew. It’s gone cold. The stew’s ingredients are beginning to clump together. </p><p>
  <em>How do ya know what yer gonna do ten years from now?</em>
</p><p>“I’ll accept the scholarship from Waseda if I can study physics.”</p><p>His mother drops her chopsticks in shock. </p><p>He sits through his mother’s reminding the entire family of the abysmal job market physics offers, his father’s frantic searching to confirm Waseda’s physics program is ranked under twelve Japanese universities, his sisters asking him if he wants to ruin his carefully laid out plans by being unemployed after graduation. </p><p>Kiyoomi doesn’t budge. His stew only grows colder. Eventually, his parents cave in and agree. </p><p>He spends the rest of the night editing his Microsoft Excel spreadsheet containing his future plans. He prints out the revised version to stick on to his wall and throws his old documents out along with the college brochures and V.League offers he didn’t look at. </p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi changes the cells of his spreadsheet again a mere two years later. </p><p>He’s supposed to only have four years of college volleyball before retiring. His future plan has already deviated from its original path of computer science, and he quite literally cannot afford to deviate any more. The salary he stands to earn with a physics degree isn’t nearly as impressive as what he could have had with a computer science job. </p><p>He’s lucky that his parents allows him to study physics. This small mercy should be enough to fulfill his desires. This victory should leave him with a satisfied smile. </p><p>But four more years of volleyball aren’t <em>enough</em>. </p><p>The stardust in his veins burns, and his whole body aches from the hunger left unsatiated. Every serve, every receive, every spike leaves him wanting more. The finish line signaling his completion of volleyball is in sight; he closes his eyes and pours all of his strength into his next spike. </p><p>Waseda does not win the All Japan Intercollegiate Volleyball Championships that year, but they do receive an invitation to the Kurowashiki. </p><p>Kiyoomi has competed here with Itachiyama before. Now, Motoya is stretching with the EJP Raijins and Iizuna is holding a Deseo Hornets substitute card. </p><p>Itachiyama was knocked out in the first round; Waseda suffers the same fate as the MSBY Black Jackals trample them into dust. His teammates groan in defeat and all he can do is feel as if he’s been set ablaze by the thrill of challenging his former rivals who have gone on to play professional volleyball. </p><p>He cannot afford to change his plans; he still hunches over his laptop and types away.</p><p>Kiyoomi will play volleyball for a few years after earning a bachelor's degree, beat Wakatoshi, Motoya, Iizuna, and Atsumu five times each, and then return to university for a higher degree. He’ll play volleyball and be good enough to be the MVP of the All Japan Intercollegiate Volleyball Championships. He’ll earn a few V.League offers that he won’t reject without a single glance this time.</p><p>He hopes a certain team will give him another offer. </p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi signs a contract with the MSBY Black Jackals after university and doesn’t think about what Atsumu asked him to do at the end of their high school volleyball careers. He doesn’t think about how that first loss against Atsumu will remain the first and last now that they’re going to play together. He doesn’t think about how the thought of standing on the same side of the court as Atsumu sends shivers of excitement down his spine and makes the stars in his bones explode. </p><p>He doesn’t think of Atsumu at all.</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>(He does.)</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi joins MSBY, determined to not let Atsumu alter his ten year plan yet again. His timer is still ticking. His parents are still fuming over his decision to pursue volleyball. There is too much Kiyoomi needs to accomplish in too short of a time, and Atsumu is not the only one who demands his attention. </p><p>He learns quickly enough how brightly Atsumu shines, how no matter how often he tries to look away, he always finds himself staring at Atsumu and his damned smile once more. </p><p>In the end, Kiyoomi hits Atsumu’s perfect tosses and stares at his palms in disbelief while Atsumu lets out a proud cackle. He dreams of winning the V.League Championships and standing on the Olympic podium instead of returning to academia and earning his PhD.</p><p>A few years pass. Hinata travels back to Brazil, this time to play indoor volleyball. Barnes retires from the Black Jackals, Meian following his lead a year later. New recruits join and slowly click into their team dynamic until they’re even stronger than they once were. </p><p>No matter how many teammates come and go, Kiyoomi remains in the same team as Atsumu.</p><p>Atsumu has ruined every single plan Kiyoomi has made since high school. Kiyoomi studied a field he’s passionate about, prolonged his volleyball career, joined the Jackals, and found happiness because of Atsumu. </p><p>He’s reprinted the map of his future countless times now. The only slot that hasn’t been scribbled out after interference from Atsumu is meeting someone he wants to settle down with when he turns thirty. It’s only expected for Atsumu to ruin this for Kiyoomi too. </p><p>When Kiyoomi turns twenty-five, he opens his apartment door to see Atsumu’s face flush a deep crimson as he thrusts a bouquet of sunflowers into his face. </p><p>“Be my boyfriend,” Atsumu says. It doesn’t sound like a question.</p><p>Kiyoomi gingerly plucks the bouquet out of his fingers, cradling the flowers before looking into Atsumu’s eyes. </p><p>It occurs to him that Atsumu has stardust in his veins too. </p><p>Space is beautiful, daunting, and terrifying. Atsumu is all of these things and so much <em>more</em>. Atsumu is a type of space different from what he studied in the astrophysics classes for his physics major, different from the infinite field of cells in an Excel spreadsheet. Atsumu is the embodiment of a universe expanding until the end of time, and all Kiyoomi can do is brace himself for their collision. </p><p>The process of their lives intertwining for the rest of forever starts with a bouquet of sunflowers. </p><p>Kiyoomi sees the endless possibilities they have together and thinks he doesn’t mind exploring the unknown if it means he’s learning more about Atsumu. He won’t get lost, and well if he does, he’s always liked mapping and planning anyways. </p><p>Kiyoomi looks into the endless expanse that is Atsumu and it feels like home. </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>...</p><p> </p><p>Kiyoomi plans out his future when he’s sixteen. Ten years later, absolutely none of his plans have come true. </p><p>Those hypothetical futures mean nothing to him, not when he took his old Excel sheets off his walls months ago and replaced them with the memories he didn’t foresee having at sixteen. Plans and routines can be overturned if he finds something — someone — better. He didn’t envision Atsumu in his life, but he’s better than any of his plans could have ever been. The smile he’s spent his whole life wishing for appears on his face around Atsumu, a happiness he never knew to be possible flowing alongside the stardust in his body. </p><p>Kiyoomi wakes up nestled in the warmth of Atsumu’s arms and there is no other life he’d rather have. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! You can find me on twitter as @myo_caron</p></blockquote></div></div>
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